My name is Shin-Jel. I am an Argonian. I am the Harbinger. I can safely say I've done more good than anyone has in this land since Tiber Septim. I killed Alduin and saved not just Skyrim, but all of Tamriel, maybe even all of Nirn, from the dragon threat.

But if there is one thing I would say I'm not, it's a faithful husband and father.

I'm sitting in a nice, comfy armchair with my head in my hands, rubbing my temples. In front of me crackles a bright, warm hearthfire, driving what little cold may remain out of my home. Behind me, I can hear the sound of my lover stirring up food. Outside, I can dimly hear the sound of my precious child joyfully playing tag with a few of her friends. This is the first time I've come home in weeks, and both of them are completely ignoring me. It's as if I'm not here, as if I mean nothing.

I don't blame them. It's not like I've ever done anything to deserve their attention.

I have to force my throat not to issue a plaintive, distraught moan. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, causing a brown purse to fall to the floor from where it lay in my lap. Reaching down, I pick it up and begin to set it back into my lap, but hesitate, gazing at it ruefully. This purse contains half of the money my spouse made while I was gone; the profits of the family business are split between us. It's not much, but it's still money that was freely given to me. Money I didn't do anything to earn. Money that was given to me as a reward for being away from the family I chose to create.

I sit up. I don't want this money. I don't deserve it. Without turning to look, I call out, "Dearest?"

A few seconds and three paces later, my lover is beside me. Only now do I dare to look up at the faithful mate to the unfaithful partner. I'm greeted by a cold-hardened but loving face adorned with green scales, large and curved horns, and a bunch of sleek blue feathers on the back. Scouts-Many-Marshes lays a hand on my shoulder. "Is there anything you need, dearest?" my husband asks.

I break eye contact. It hurts when he calls me that. "... No," I reply heavily. "I just… wanted you to have this." Still refusing to look, I move the hand holding the purse towards him.

There's no response for a moment. Then, "Aren't those… aren't those your share of our profits?"

I shake my head. "They're not my share of our profits," I respond. "They're my share of your profits. And I'd prefer you actually got paid in full for your honest work."

He still doesn't move to take it. "My love…" he begins confoundedly.

"Don't call me that!" I bark, before immediately realizing I just screamed at my husband. I drop the coin purse as my whole body starts to shake. "I don't… I don't deserve such a title. I'm not good enough for it."

I can hear the sound of Scouts-Many-Marshes backing away, shocked at my sudden outburst. "What are you saying, dear heart?" he asks. His voice rings with disorientation.

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I don't know what to say; I am simply too emotional to say anything. "Good job," I think to myself sardonically. "The one time you show emotion towards the person you're supposed to love and it's the one time where it's not good for him. What a great, caring husband you are." That which is in front of me starts to blur. As my eyes grow warm and my throat tight, I realize that I am crying. Even though I've only ever been worthless to my husband and daughter, I'm the one acting like I have problems.

I hate myself. I hate myself so much.

My lover asks again. "Shin-Jel, I don't understand. Please, tell me why you are saying these things!"

I can't take it anymore. Wheeling around, I try to focus on him through the blurriness my tears are causing. "I'm saying it because it's the truth!" I cry, my choked throat barely able to form the words. "I'm a terrible husband and an even worse father! This house, this family—I've all but abandoned it! I can't even bother to try and stay close to the family I chose to create! I'm always off on some damned escapade! I stay out for weeks and months at a time! You and Ma'isha are always here all alone, working to keep everything in check and stable, and for what? For the person who cobbled this all together to never be here and support you?! I never write home! I never spend enough time to make memories with who I love! I never make it seem like I'm a member of this family!"

My voice continually rises until I'm practically screaming in hysterics. "We don't belong here, Marshes! We're the only Argonians and the only homosexuals in all of Whiterun! I asked you to leave your egg-brothers in Windhelm behind, and I promised you a lifelong commitment of love and compassion! But where is that togetherness I so enticed you with? Gone! Nonexistent! I never brought it into our home!

"And what of our daughter? What of Ma'isha? Nobody in this town trusts a single Khajiit, of which she is the only one here! Her kind does not belong! She is going to grow up mistrusted and unappreciated by everyone around her! I've never been around to support her, to give her the better life I promised her!

"Marshes, sometimes I feel I'm using you! On the rare occasions I come home, all I do is fall asleep and ask about money! You aren't my lover anymore! You're a tool, an instrument! And I… I…"

My breaths are ragged and mixed with whimpers. I barely even know what's coming out of my mouth anymore. I collapse into my chair, head in my hands, sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm just… I'm just bloody worthless," I sputter out.

I said it. I said it all. I don't know why I did. It's not like my husband can help me stop being unfaithful. Maybe it was a last desperate effort to show him that deep down, I really do care. I just don't care enough to commit to us.

Scouts-Many-Marshes says nothing for a while. Then all of a sudden, he's leaning down with his arms around me, pulling me in for a tight, loving embrace. I return it without hesitation, clutching him as if my life depended on it, wailing into the scales on his chest. "I'm sorry, Marshes," I whimper with a quaking voice. "I want to be better. Really. But I…" Another sob racks my body. "I'm just not!"

My spouse holds me tighter, caressing me gently. "Let's see what Ma'isha has to say about this," he says softly after a while.

I shake my head vigorously against his chest. "I'd rather not," I reply. "It can't be good for her. It's already bad enough—"

As if on cue, the door creaks open and in walks in an exuberant Khajiit. "You'll never guess what happened in the town square today!" Her voice trails off as she takes in the scene in front of her. Turning to face Scouts-Many-Marshes, she asks worriedly, "Papa, why is Bormah crying?"

"Because he doesn't think he's a good husband," my lover replies. "Or a good father. Do you think he's a bad father, Ma'isha?"

An outraged gasp comes from her lungs. "What? No! Of course not!" She rushes up to me, putting both paws on my knee. "You're a great father, Bormah!"

I see my husband smile. "And why is that, Ma'isha?"

The girl responds swiftly and immediately. "Because he loves me."

I do. But I don't show it. "I'm never here for you!" I groan. "When was the last time we spent time together? The last time we played a game together? The last time I actually showed you how much I love you?"

"Just last week."

I blink. "Wh-what?"

Ma'isha giggles. "You don't remember, silly? Last week! Sinmir was being a big meanie. He called me a cat and was saying a bunch of mean stuff. You came in, and you were all like, 'Are you sure you want to be talking like that to the Dragonborn's daughter?'" She laughs again. "The look on his face was awesome!" A bit of the innocent mirth fades from her face. "But you were really scared for me. I remember. As soon as he was gone, you were all over me. Asking if he hurt me, what did he say to me—seeing you all worried was really… oh, what's the word? Un-Nerevarine?"

"Unnerving," my husband corrects her.

She nods vigorously. "Yeah. It was super unnerving. You were panicking and everything."

Scouts-Many-Marshes smiles down at me. "That sounds like a father-daughter moment to me."

"Yeah!" Ma'isha continues. "I know you're not always around, but when you are it's the best days of my life! You play games, you get me nice things,"-her gaze softens-"and, well, you love me." She gives me an adorable, wide-eyed, white-toothed smile. "And I love you too, Bormah. I would still be in that old shack with the fisherman if it weren't for you. I like Whiterun so much more! I have friends—and I have a family."

I stare at her, my mouth half-open. I don't know what to say. I'm completely overwhelmed. By what exactly, I don't know. It could be relief that my daughter still loves me and that I haven't failed her. Or maybe it's just affection for the precious, innocent Khajiit child in front of me. Either way, I'm left speechless, attempting and failing to form words. Ma'isha tilts her head. "Bormah, why are you looking at me like that?"

I try to work up a response. I fail. My throat doesn't work. I begin to tremble. Ma'isha looks worried. "Papa, something's wrong with Bormah!"

Before Scouts-Many-Marshes can reply, I slide from my chair onto my knees and throw myself around Ma'isha, hugging her as tightly as I can. "I love you, Ma'isha," I whisper. "My beautiful, precious daughter. I love you so much."

"I love you too, father," Ma'isha coughs, her voice dry and strained. "Now please stop crushing me."

I do as she asks and let go, but keep my hands on her shoulders. Her eyes meet mine, and suddenly, I'm filled with a new determination, like a smile through agony. "It's wonderful news to hear you still love me, Ma'isha," I begin, a newfound steadiness in my voice. "But I know that I can be better. And I will be. So just you wait, okay? Bormah's going to be the best Bormah ever, just for you."

Ma'isha's eyes shine. "That's great!" the little Khajiit exclaims. Scouts-Many-Marshes chuckles. Exchanging a look with him, I mumble to Ma'isha, "Would you like to go back outside a bit? Papa and I would like to talk."

Ma'isha happily scampers off, making sure to shut the door behind her. My love looks on, his eyes sparkling. "I swear, that child is wise beyond her years," he states.

"I know," I reply, then stand up. "Marshes, I… We're not done here."

"Yes, I would've thought so," Scouts-Many-Marshes replies.

"Dearest, you are not Ma'isha. It elates me to know I'm a good father, but what about you?" I can feel my face creasing in upset worry. "Am I a good husband?"

He chuckles. "Dearest, if you weren't a good husband I wouldn't be living in this house," he replies mirthfully.

"But…" I start to protest, but he steps forward and swiftly lays a finger on my lips.

"But nothing," he says firmly. "All these faults you're finding with yourself—they're a non-issue. I can tell you keep up with the family as much you can."

I shake my head, beginning to grow distraught again. "There are so many chances I could've taken to visit," I argue, "and I didn't."

Marshes looks less than enthusiastic. "Honey, you need to be softer on yourself," he admonishes. "I'm not stupid, nor am I unempathetic. I know your life keeps you away from the house. You're not just some ordinary traveller, Shin-Jel. You are the Dragonborn! The entire province of Skyrim is calling to you!" He moves his hand in a huge sweeping arc, emphasizing his point. "Almost everyone, nay, exactly everyone is asking for your aid." The hand finishes the arc, coming to a rest on my shoulder as my mate smiles at me. "And you feel you must help them. If anything, Shin-Jel, it's amazing how often you visit us. We are elated you can find as much time to come home as you do. You are not 'inconsistent;' you are anything but, and whenever you leave, Ma'isha and I know that it will not be long before you return.

"I'm with Ma'isha on this one: When you do visit, it is the highlight of my life. A mere second with you is more than enough compensation for your days or even weeks of absence, my love. To curl up by the fire with our treasured daughter, or to take off our daytime garb and share each other's warmth in bed—every moment with you is priceless, Shin-Jel, and is a moment I will never forget. Seeing your battle-worn, cold-hardened face smile at me, and knowing that I'm the one who made you smile; knowing that the legendary Dovahkiin so cares for me that he regularly visits and shares such wonderful seconds with me in spite of every calling he is destined to answer—it's a wonderful feeling, love. It truly is."

I take a deep breath, almost knocked off my feet. Only by focusing on my husband's warm, gentle smile can I maintain the strength to not faint. "Marshes, I…" I breathe, "I do not know what to say."

Scouts-Many-Marshes leans closer. "Then don't say anything, my darling," he murmurs, close to my ear slit. Almost reflexively, I move my hand upwards and gently caress his cheek. He leans into it like a cat, twisting his neck down and beginning to sensually nibble mine. I feel him lick me, his hot, wet tongue gently and teasingly rubbing against my scales.

I gently but firmly push him away. "Later," I warn him. "We wouldn't want Ma'isha to walk in on us."

He chuckles. "I suppose not," he agrees humorously. Looking him in the eye, I smile.

I'm still uncertain of how good a husband I really am, but if there's one thing I know, mine is a grand one. And I'm eternally grateful that I had the gall to walk up to him with that amulet of Mara around my neck, uncertain if he would want to get married the non-Argonian way or if he even wanted to get married at all, let alone to another man.

Looking at his face, seeing him smile with all the love in the world for me and our family, I make a vow to myself right then and there.

I will be the best family man this world has ever seen..